


WIP - "Survivors Guilt"

by Missy_Marie



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Friends to Enemies, Like really slow, Other, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends, its going to be painful for both of us, stuck together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-06-26 15:18:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15665856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy_Marie/pseuds/Missy_Marie
Summary: "Why can't you just be quiet for one fucking minute? You need a muzzle.""Kinky."Before she could turn around and slap him, the sound of glass shattering made them both freeze in place.Zombie Apocalypse AU with mainly Bellarke and Murvan so if that's not your thing then 乁(ᴗ ͜ʖ ᴗ)ㄏThe chapters will rotate between Clarke/Bellamy and Raven/Murphy, starting with the former so you could just read the chapters related to a certain ship if you wanted, I'm not your mom, I can't tell you what to do.





	1. —not so alone anymore—

###### 

Clarke Griffin was smart but even then she couldn't account for every possibility; no matter how hard she tried. The backpack was heavy against her lower back so she was slow and careful as she crept through the decaying town. It was beautiful, almost. The surrounding forest was slowly reclaiming the edges, grass encroached the roads, and the trees stretched farther over the roads. A single black bird looped through the grey sky, its call echoing through the air. Clarke kept near the forests edge knowing that if she saw any movement she could disappear into the trees for safety—from the dead and the living.

The water in her backpack was heavy but water often meant life or death, and Clarke did not plan on dying anytime soon. Her haul could have been better, she wished she had found more food; the pains in her stomach reminding her that she's only eaten a single protein bar in the last couple days.

With her black hood up to hide her golden hair, Clarke neared the spot where she had hidden her car. It was a small blue SUV that she had found about a week ago, it has been her "home" since then. Leaning against the brick wall of the old building (it used to be a small shop of some sorts but its not like it mattered now), Clarke peaked into the dark alley. Empty. Her car and all of her supplies were gone.

The large sheet of opaque plastic that Clarke had used to cover her SUV was lying abandoned on the ground. With several curses in mind, Clarke crouched and sadly collected the plastic. It could be still useful to her in the future. A wave of helplessness washed over the golden haired girl but she refused to breakdown. Think, I need a plan. With a deep breath, Clarke collected herself. She was wearing dark jeans, well fitting boots, a white shirt under her black hoodie and her backpack had several bottles of water that would last her several days. She could do this, she could survive with this.

This town was mostly cleared, and it would be a waste of sunlight to try and scavenge what little was left. A better idea would be to keep moving to a less picked-over town. With a bit of forced determination, Clarke stood and headed back to the forest edge. She would follow it to the towns edge and then she would stick to the road. As she walked, her mind wondered and for one weak second she thought of her mother. No. She couldn't do that to herself. "The Drop" was not the safe haven that it claimed to be and her mother was not the woman she used to be.

The road was littered with discarded cars but Clarke already knew they were either out of gas or unusable. Thinning out to a field of wild grass and tall foxtails, the forest faded into the distance. Clarke hated how exposed she was but at least she would be able to see anything approaching her, it would give her enough time to either hide or get out the large hunting knife from her backpack. The darkening sky warned Clarke of the coming dusk, not that the dead cared about the time of day. Clarke had walked for at least an hour before she took her first drink of water, there was a growing pain in her stomach but Clarke was no stranger to hunger.

Night was approaching fast and Clarke really did not feel like spending the night out in the field so useless car it was. It took a few tries to find a vehicle that didn't have any broken windows but finally she found a small silver car that was unlocked and suitable to stay in. Clarke crawled into the backseat and locked all the doors, it was warm but it would soon cool down once the temperature outside plummeted. And plummet it did.

Shivering, Clarke curled into herself. She had maybe gotten ten to twenty minutes of sleep before the cold woke her, now she was just miserably staring blankly out the shattered—but intact—front windshield. When Clarke would narrow her eyes and her vision would become blurry, the cracks in the glass could be mistaken for a spider's web.

That's how Clarke spent the rest of the night; quivering from the cold and letting her mind imagine how she would draw and shade the windshield in her non-existent sketchbook. Well, until the all too familiar sound of growling and stumbling caused her to sit up. It was very dark that only the moonlight caught and reflected the dead's eyes. From what Clarke could see, there were a lot of them. Getting trapped would only mean a slow and painful death, she had to run.

Clarke slowly pushed open the backdoor that was facing away from the road. The metal complained with a creak but the dead were still far enough that their rotting ears did not notice. Sliding backwards into the grass and then crouching as she walked, Clarke fled with the darkness of the night covering her.

She walked and she walked and she walked, until her feet started to stumble and her balance swayed. Light was bringing to touch the horizon, soon morning would arrive but at this point Clarke could not care less. The gnawing hunger in her stomach was only making her exhaustion worse, she just wanted to curl up on the side of the road and let the rising sun warm her frozen muscles. Don't be pathetic, she chided herself. Water wasn't helping but in the back of her mind she knew she had to keep hydrated. Clarke was struggling with the cap of the water bottle when her feet slipped out from under her.

Wincing, Clarke stayed crumbled at the bottom of the ditch. She was so exhausted. Her vision darkened at the edges and she felt her control over her body slip away.

Bellamy Blake had not planned on finding a passed out girl this morning—it was actually interrupting his search for his sister—but he couldn't just leave her there collapsed in the ditch.

At first he thought the blond was dead and had lowered himself down to her with his gun drawn ready to put a bullet through her skull but then he saw her breathe and he froze. "Oh fuck," Bellamy whispered to himself. He acted more on instinct then with common sense, since common sense would have meant leaving her there. Bellamy lifted the girl into his arms, her backpack slightly getting in the way but he left it on her.

Carrying her back to the abandoned building that he called home was a bit of a hassle but she obviously needed his help. Bellamy gently placed her on Octavia's bed; this time taking her backpack from her and lying it at the foot of the bed. The girl still hadn't really awoken but she would come back for half a second just to pass out again. Going in and out of consciousness was not a good sign. Not really knowing what else to do, Bellamy covered her with a spare blanket and then left the room to secure the house.

Calling the building a house was a bit of a stretch but it was what Bellamy had to work with. There was one large room in the front where his supplies and his couch sat and there was Octavia's bedroom that was the smaller attached room. Locking the front door caused a sharp pain in Bellamy's chest; a shock of a reminder that his sister was missing. Locking the door had always been her responsibility.

Octavia's alive, she's a survivor, Bellamy thought as if to calm himself. The building had no windows that weren't boarded up so instead there were several solar panelled lanterns placed around that washed the rooms in warm orange-yellow light. Sure it was annoying to have to set them all outside every few days to charge but they were safer then candles. Bellamy wondered back to Octavia's room to see if his guest was still breathing.

The girl was sitting up in the bed with a large knife in her hands.

"Well good morning, Princess." Bellamy leaned against the doorframe with his shoulder. He couldn't help but think how nice it was to see someone so expressive, even though she was openly glaring at him. She didn't reply and he got the impression she wasn't going to so Bellamy took it as an invitation to keep talking. "You're looking a lot less dead now that you aren't collapsed at the bottom of a ditch," teased Bellamy with a small smirk, "how are you feeling? Hungry? Thirsty?"

She was quiet as her eyes searched his face, Bellamy swore she was reading each movement of his expression. "What do you want in return?"

For someone who was unconscious a few minutes ago, her voice was surprisingly strong. Bellamy answered her honestly with a short "nothing." She seemed unconvinced and fiddled with the knife in her hands. "I'm not going to have sex with you and if you touch me I will hurt you," she replied steadily as her eyes pinned Bellamy in place. With his hands up in mock surrender, Bellamy shook his head. "I'm not that kind of man, Princess. But you don't have to trust me, I'm just offering you some food and water."

When the girl lapsed into silence again, Bellamy relaxed back into his original place of leaning against the doorframe. He realized how this all seemed from her end of things and felt slightly guilty; but he did save her so he had expected at least a thank you. With an exasperated exhale, Bellamy tried a different approach with the defensive girl: "My name is Bellamy Blake. I was looking for my sister when I found you, you were unresponsive so I carried you here. You've only been sleeping for about ten minutes. I promise I won't touch you, I just wanted to help."

Finally she seemed to relax. "Clarke Griffin," she paused before adding quickly, "and thank you for your help."

A triumphant smile worked its way onto Bellamy's face. He couldn't help but think that the guarded, perceptive girl sitting across from him resembled a damsel in distress with her bright blue eyes and slightly curled, long blond hair. "You're welcome, Princess." Bellamy said with a hint of arrogance and almost laughed at Clarke's annoyed expression. To save the conversation, Bellamy asked again if he could get her something to eat or drink.

Clarke shifted on the bed, placing her knife beside her. Swaying, she placed her feet on the floor. Just as she was about to stand or reply (Bellamy would never know), Clarke started to crumble to the floor. Bellamy lurched forward and caught her before she hit the ground.


	2. —luck runs thin—

Raven Reyes should have known that the safe haven would not last forever.

"The Drop" was a hospital nested above a great canyon, it served as a safe place for many survivors and was run by former government members and doctors. It was a pretty decent place until it started becoming over populated and catching the attention of the dead. The Drop had been attacked before but never to this degree. Over the intercom an almost bored voice reminded everyone to follow evacuation protocols. Follow the shepherd little sheep, Raven thought bitterly.

Raven limped through the halls while survivors rushed past her in a panic, but Raven knew better. There was no safe exit to the hospital, not unless you were planning on jumping down into the canyon. Someone was screaming about the dead crawling into the windows but Raven chose to ignore that. She was going to survive this, she was Raven Reyes. She has come back from being shot in the back, she could survive a few rotting corpses.

Finally, Raven arrived at what used to be a lobby. It was just a common room to the survivors but right now it was surrounded by people distributing evacuation packs that were piled around the room. Spotting the familiar dark blond head of Abby Griffin among the crowd, Raven pushed her way to the older woman.

There were several other people of high importance who were all competing for the doctor's attention but Raven didn't care. "Abby! We have to leave, the east wing is our best chance as long as we hurry," Raven insisted while trying not to sound as if she was telling the experienced doctor what to do. Abby turned to her with a poorly vailed anxious expression. "Raven, thank god," Abby turned away from the others and jumped into a sudden explanation: "The rendezvous is directly west of the city. Just follow the signs to Arkadia Arts College. I have to make sure all of our medical equipment does not get damaged but I should be there by tomorrow night. Be smart and stay away from anything or anyone who could be dangerous."

Abby stressed as she handed Raven an evacuation bag from the pile. When Raven stared—clearly confused—with the cloth bag just in her hands, Abby huffed and put the strap over the dark haired girl's shoulder. "You need to get going, Raven, there is a weapon in your bag along with some rations," Abby started pushing Raven away. 

Spinning back around, Raven prepared to argue but the look on Abby's face stopped her. "I'll see you at Arkadia," was all Raven said as she stalked away. Abby called after her, "remember that you have a brace on, Raven! Don't do anything reckless!"

Biting back a sharp reply, Raven just forced her way through the crowd of hopeless people. Raven sometimes wondered how these people where even survivors in the first place. 

Like Raven guessed, the west wing was empty. Sure the dead were banging against the windows from outside with their growls echoing through the hall but they couldn't get in. As she moved down the corridor, the horde shifted with her but quickly lost interest when they lost sight and continued their fruitless attempt to break the glass. The plan was to get to the end of the hall, enter the loading bay, leave out the side door and disappear into the ruined city to find a place to hide for the night. Well, her plan was almost flawless. Raven was standing outside when the wind hit her. 

It was going to rain—no—it was going to storm. Thunder clouds rolled through the low sky, the air was tight with pressure, and the wind was chilling. "Oh fuck," Raven said to herself. She was only in a tight black tank top and her shorts. When the rain started, it fell fast and felt half frozen. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Raven repeated as she started running. She had to get inside somewhere quick before she got soaked. Her closest option was an old drug store with boarded windows.

After forcing the door open Raven stumbled into the dusty building. The white metal shelves were picked clean, several roof tiles were missing and exposed wires hung down like vines. The building smelled like rot. Raven knew she couldn't stay here, her decision affirmed when she heard the creaking and groaning of an undead. Calm and composed, Raven slowly pushed against the door she had just come through. It wouldn't move. Still calm, Raven started pulling on the door. It made a screeching sound and only moved about an inch. 

"Seriously?" Raven mumbled angrily to herself.

Thankfully the zombie announced itself loudly which gave Raven lots of time to get out of its way as it lunged at the front door. Unfortunately, Raven did not have the time to arm herself with the weapon from her bag so she just had to try and run.

Reaching at her while growling and groaning, the disgusting mess of rotting flesh stumbled after Raven as she headed to the back of the store. All stores had a back exit. The store ended in a small hallway that was dark and cold. The sound of the rain was almost muffling all other sounds. Raven stopped suddenly and her panic peaked: the back door was boarded close.

She had just trapped herself.

Raven was just turning to face the dead stumbling towards her when someone shouted "get down!". Instinctively, Raven reacted and used the side of the wall to slide down to the ground. The gunshot was painfully loud, the flash lit up the hallway for half a second, and then it was dark again. "For the genius you claim to be," said the annoyingly familiar boy standing in the hall, "cornering yourself doesn't seem to be the smartest thing you could have done."

John Murphy prowled to Raven's side and wordlessly offered his hand to help her up. 

"Murphy?" Asked Raven as if she didn't believe it was actually him. She didn't accept his hand and instead used the wall to support her as she stood; Murphy couldn't help but glance at the brace on her leg. "What's the matter, Raven? Never seen a zombie before?" Murphy nettled as he clicked the safety on his pistol. Raven was watching him with an even, calculated look. Smirking, Murphy pointedly looked her up and down to lure her into saying something.

It worked.

Scoffing at him, Raven spoke sharply, "where have you been? You disappeared, everyone thought you died." She crossed her arms over her chest and glowered. She looked cold and Murphy felt the urge to offer his jacket but she would only think of it as an insult. Instead, Murphy shrugged and answered flippantly, "oh I've been around. I'm not really a team player so The Drop wasn't the best place for me."

With a sarcastic laugh, Raven rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah because getting into fights every other day must have been very hard for you," the dark haired girl was trying to provoke him now, "no wonder you chose to live out here." 

Murphy opened his arms and very seriously replied, "what's not great about this place? You even get a free roommate." As he finished speaking, Murphy kicked the unmoving body of the dead lying by his feet. This made Raven laugh genuinely; a small laugh as if Murphy had surprised her into laughing. "As great as this is," Raven said, "do you know anyplace where the rain isn't actively dripping through the ceiling?"

"I might," Murphy replied vaguely. Raven's confidence for some reason made Murphy want to aggravate her; to see how far he could push her before she snapped.

Raven pushed past him and strode towards the store's entrance. "Great, then let's go." She ordered without bothering to see if Murphy was following her. "Hold up, Reyes. I'm not finished looting this place," Murphy replied smartly as he casually strolled down the hall after her, "I was rudely interrupted when I had to save your life." The stubborn girl looked irked at being stopped but she just stood at the counter as Murphy walked behind it and crouched.

"You didn't save my life, you just helped," Raven clarified. She was leaning over to see what Murphy was doing. He had to stop himself from looking at her, she was very distracting and he had a lock to break. It only took Murphy a few tries to break the lock with the tools from his pockets, he swung open the counter's cabinet triumphantly. Glancing upwards he caught Raven's half impressed smirk. 

Inside were four unopened first-aid kits. Lightning cracked across the sky outside, the light flashing across the building's interior for a heartbeat. After handing Raven two kits to hold, Murphy gabbed the last two and stood. Thunder roared and everything shuttered. "Care for a calming evening walk?" Murphy asked sarcastically.

"Of course." Raven replied without missing a beat.


	3. -trapped-

Clarke woke quickly and instantly struck out at the young man holding her, thankfully she realized what happened and stopped. They were on the floor; Bellamy kneeling with Clarke in his arms. Felling instantly defensive, Clarke stiffened which made Bellamy laugh but when she shifted away from him—he let her go. Leaning against the bed instead, Clarke watched as Bellamy stood and left the room. With a few moments by herself, Clarke closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. I'm not going to faint, I'm not going to faint, she repeated to herself as she took carful, even breaths.

Bellamy returned with a can of food and a bottle of water. Steeling herself, Clarke sat up straight. "I have water in my backpack," she told him as he crouched in front of her and set down what her brought. 

"Oh, is that why it was so fucking heavy?"

"Yeah," Clarke replied without humour. She slowly reached for the food, watching Bellamy as she did.

The young man ran his hand through his hair and sighed with a hint of exasperation. "Look, I'm not going to take it away from you. Just don't eat it too fast or you'll make yourself sick."

I know, Clarke thought but just raised her eyebrows at Bellamy in response. Clarke lifted the can and regarded the vegetable soup. As much as her stomached ached, she took a painfully small mouthful and then paused.

Bellamy had half rose before turning and settling beside Clarke so that he was now also sitting with his back against the bed. "So are you going to tell me what happened, or should I just start guessing." His voice seemed to carry a natural sort of arrogance that made Clarke's defences rise, but she could tell he was trying to be charming. After taking another bit of the soup, Clarke answered flippantly.

"My car and all my stuff was stolen."

Clarke almost smiled when Bellamy replied with a blunt, "well that fucking sucks." He fixed his hair again which gave Clarke the impression that it usually wasn't the messy length it was now—he probably looked less scruffy when it was cut. "So you just started walking and took a nap in the ditch?" Bellamy questioned.

"Well no, I had sheltered in another car but..."

"But what?"

Clarke turned and looked directly at Bellamy. "When was the last time you checked outside?" Clarke could not keep the panic from creeping into her tone. Bellamy frowned, "why?"

"I had to leave the car because a horde of dead were going to surround me, they were following the road..." Clarke felt a sense of dread rising in her chest, like a slowly increasing pressure against her ribs. Bellamy clued in to what she was implying and said, "and they could still be travelling this way." He started to get up but when Clarke set down the can of food he stopped and placed his hand over Clarke's shoulder. She could feel the warmth of his hand through her hoodie, and for some reason the feeling made her want to flinch away.

It took every bit of self restraint not to smack his arm away when Bellamy stopped her from standing. Instead, Clarke glared.

"You should stay here," Bellamy said as he removed his hand from Clarke's shoulder. He shot her a smirk just before leaving the room, "keep eating and try not to pass out again." 

What a dick, Clarke thought. She finished the soup all at once then grabbed the water bottle. Her determination to stand and follow him was mostly due to spite but Clarke also did not want to seem weak, she didn't want Bellamy to think that she could be taken advantage of.

Bellamy was only just reaching the door when Clarke stumbled out of Octavia's room, she looked a little unbalanced but she held herself with an air of superiority that would have been amusing if Bellamy hadn't just seem her pass out a few minutes ago. Keeping his annoyed thoughts to himself, Bellamy preceded to ignore her and placed his ear to the seam where the door met the frame. The all too familiar sound of low growling and shuffling was a telltale sign that there were dead outside. 

Turning, Bellamy found Clarke standing beside him. She gave him an expectant look to which Bellamy reluctantly nodded. Bellamy watched as the young woman considered the situation, she stepped back and started surveying her surroundings. It was refreshing for Bellamy to feel as if he wasn't the only one making decisions but he wasn't quite ready to trust her judgement.

With a motion for her to be quiet, Bellamy slowly moved towards the far corner. As he passed the shelf against the wall Bellamy grabbed a lantern. The movement caused shadows to bounce around the room. Bellamy glanced back to see Clarke watching him cautiously. The attic door was difficult to see in the dark but once Bellamy brought the light over it was obvious. 

Careful to not make any excess sound, Bellamy pulled the stairs down and beaconed Clarke closer. She had her arms crossed over her chest but she walked over to him. "Do you need any help going up?" Bellamy whispered to her. He had meant it kindly but Clarke stiffened and a furious look flashed in her eyes. 

"No, I can manage, thanks," the blond snapped quietly at him.

Replying with his own sarcasm, Bellamy leaned against the stairs. "Then after you, princess." He held out the lantern for her to take.

He noticed her pause and thought that she was going to refuse when she turned away from him. "I'm grabbing my backpack," she whispered as she strode towards Octavia's room. Bellamy was going to tell her that there was plenty of supplies in the attic but figured that she wouldn't care.

Instead, Bellamy climbed the stairs with the lantern in his hand. Ducking due to the low ceiling, Bellamy placed the light on the floor. It was enough to illuminate the whole attic room in an orange-yellow glow. There was blankets, pillows, and a few sleeping bags stashed along side several cans of food and a box of bottled water. The attic also had a window, but it was covered by a thick black piece of fabric. 

For a moment Bellamy was struck with the memory of hiding up here with Octavia; there had been a large group of strangers that gave Bellamy a bad feeling so as a precaution he and Octavia had locked the door and stayed in the attic for two days until the strangers had left the area. It seemed so long ago but the thought still caused a panicked feeling in Bellamy's chest. Where ever Octavia had gone, he hoped that she was safe.

He could hear Clarke climbing the stairs so Bellamy made himself busy by checking the window. Out on the street roamed the largest pack of dead that Bellamy had ever seen. "Fuck," he thought out-loud.

"Is there a way out from here?" Clarke asked as she looked around the attic. Bellamy lifted the fabric from the window so that she could see out, he raised an eyebrow at her. "If you want to climb out the window, be my guest."

She blinked at him, her face and posture calm. "So we are trapped."

Shrugging, Bellamy turned back to the window. "It is safer to be up here," he stated plainly. The horde was wondering aimlessly, most were going forward but some were bumping into the building across the street and tearing at the jagged pieces of glass that were left over from the broken windows. Clarke surprised Bellamy by crouching next to him, he did his best to not flinch away from her. "I suppose you're right," Clarke said as she solemnly watched the dead through the cloudy window.


	4. -warm-

Raven had to admit, Murphy was a cleaver little cockroach. He had made a shelter for himself in what used to be a mall, more specifically, he had secured all of the back corridors of the mall. It was sort of unnerving to walk through the maze of concrete halls and to make matters worse, Raven was shivering; despite her best efforts. Murphy had glanced at her several times as she paced beside him but if he dared to say anything, she would have punched him. He didn't. 

Rounding what seemed like the hundredth corner, Murphy finally stopped beside a metal door and held the first aid kits awkwardly in one hand as he retrieved keys from his pocket. Raven noted that he had several different keys and figured they were for the other doors of the mall. "Welcome to my humble home, Reyes." Murphy announced and broke the silence as he threw open the door. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

Rolling her eyes, Raven stepped into the old security room. On one side of the room was a metal desk with several dated computers and monitors that had a thick layer of dust covering them, there was also a newer looking radio that Murphy probably added himself, and there was another door on the far wall. On the opposite side was an unfolded futon mattress that was piled with blankets and pillows, Raven couldn't help but notice the large number of knives scattered about and the several guns shoved under the couch-bed. 

She almost smiled. It was very typical Murphy. There was also a few boxes of rations and two small flats of water bottles that were peaking out from the piles of clothing thrown over them. 

"Very classy, Murphy," Raven sneered as she turned to watch him shut the door behind them, "how much does it cost you to rent this place?" Shivering from the cold had made Raven irritable, and her tone reflected it but she really didn't care if she hurt Murphy's feelings.

She watched with growing annoyance as Murphy smirked at her and lazily piled the first aid kits on the metal desk next to the computers. "It insults me that you think I rent this place, I obviously own it," the scruffy boy replied. He too was soaked from the storm but his jacket had saved him from most of the rain. Raven appreciated that it was at least warm in the mall and she was starting to feel her fingers again.

When Murphy held out his arms, Raven passed him the first aid kits she was carrying. His hand brushed her's and he almost pulled his hands away, "fuck, Reyes, you are freezing!" 

With a scoff, Raven crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah, walking through the rain at night in a tank top tends to be a little chilly." What an idiot, Raven thought but since he was helping her she decided against name calling—for now.

After putting the first aid kits all together, Murphy started searching around his room. Raven was just confused. He picked through his clothing piles and stood up holding a shirt and sweatpants. "Here," he said as he tossed the clothing at her. Raven caught it easily but she looked at him like he had lost his mind. 

"I'm not wearing your dirty clothes."

"Fuck off, they're new."

Raven rubbed the soft material of the shirt between her thumb and finger. It felt new, Murphy probably got it from one of the many stores in the mall.

"There's a bathroom through that door," Murphy told her as he pointed towards the far wall, "I wouldn't trust the light though, it might blow up."

Raven huffed. "Yeah, okay, thanks."

###### 

Murphy didn't really expect her to thank him—and he didn't really get one—but her expression made up for it. She had looked so uncomfortable. Laughing to himself, Murphy started pulling blankets and pillows off his bed and onto the floor. A hunting knife was flipped onto the floor and slid across the round just as Raven emerged from the bathroom.

For whatever reason, Murphy eyed her as Raven reached down for the fallen knife. She played with it in her hands as she considered Murphy. "What are you doing?" Raven's voice was much lighter now that she was out of her wet clothing. 

Murphy winked at her. "Just getting ready for our sleepover." The glare he received just encouraged Murphy. "Do you feel like watching a horror movie, or is that a bit insensitive?"

"Are you going to sleep on the floor?" Raven asked bluntly, changing the subject. Murphy gestured to the pillows and blankets now on the floor as if to say, "yeah, obviously." He smiled as Raven continued to fiddle with the hunting knife, she was starting to look uncomfortable again. "Don't be fucking weird, Murphy. I'll sleep on the floor, I don't want you doing me any more favours."

Throwing his hands up dramatically. "Sleep on the floor?" He shouted which had Raven flinch. "What kind of man do you think I am?"

"You don't want me to answer that." 

Murphy was enjoying himself, he gathered the bedding from the floor and tossed it back on the futon. "Alright, we can both sleep on the bed," he said, knowing full well she could hear the challenge in his voice. "But I have to warn you, Reyes, I like to cuddle." Murphy joked as he rolled himself onto the bed. Much to his surprise, Raven was fighting back a smile. She held up the knife and waved it at him. "I will slit your throat," she threatened in an almost sing-song voice. 

"That's kind of hot."

"Fuck off."

Murphy laughed and watched as Raven stalked over to the other side of the futon and sat down. A moment of awkwardness stretched between them, Murphy couldn't stand it. "So what's your plan, Reyes?"

"What do you care?" She snapped back.

"I don't. Just curious."

Murphy could almost see the thoughts in Raven's eyes as she considered her words. Finally, she sighed and leaned back; relenting a bit of her guard. "Well I guess I'm supposed to go to Arkadia Arts College and meet up with anyone who survived from the Drop... but I don't think I can stay there if Abby is dead."

Confused, Murphy started to sit up. Settling himself with his back to the wall, Murphy noticed that Raven was spinning the knife's tip against her finger. She was probably feeling lost but Murphy wasn't the most tactful person. "So the Drop finally crumbled. Not surprising." A muscle in Raven's jaw jumped, but Murphy continued: "but if Abby was alive when you left then she is probably still alive. Everyone in that fucking place relied on her, they wouldn't let her die."

Raven rolled her eyes at him. "Well she was a doctor," she stressed the last word purposefully. Murphy shrugged, "from what I remember, she wasn't very good at her job."

"Wow, you're dick."

"You say that like it is a surprise."

Raven finally laughed, and Murphy felt a sense of accomplishment. When the lights suddenly flicked off and plunged them into darkness, Raven swore much to Murphy's delight. "Must be passed closing time," he spoke into the darkness. He heard and felt Raven shifting around, probably lying down or something, but tired not to pay attention to it. "The lights are seriously still on a timer?" Raven asked with a slight yawn. "Yeah, I was too lazy to figure out to cancel it," Murphy replied, "plus it's very convenient. It saved us from the experience the awkwardness shutting off the lights ourselves." 

Raven didn't laugh but Murphy could hear the smile in her voice, "oh shut up and go to sleep."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you think I was going for the classic "cold and need to share body heat" fanfic trope? lol sorry to disappoint ;)


End file.
